


beyond the utmost bound of human thought

by jamesstruttingpotter



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, some characters don't appear for a while but whatever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2103990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesstruttingpotter/pseuds/jamesstruttingpotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Eris, goddess of discord, daughters of the organization that burned to ashes." SHIELD has fallen, HYDRA has won, and 42849 is Eris's sacrifice. Otherwise known as that skyeward dystopia AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	beyond the utmost bound of human thought

**Author's Note:**

> After five billion attempts to finish this up so I could post it as a oneshot, I've given up. I'll be posting this in chapter segments. Sorry about that...

_Listen, for the history they teach is not the history that we know. There was a fallen empire, a Wall of rocks, a blistering sun that plagued the Wastelands out west. Mothers cried out for their sons and fire rained down from the heavens._

_And then there was silence._

_But first, the collapse._

* * *

 The first thing they did was coalesce. The Chamber of Uppers turned red, spilling over with HYDRA loyalty and SHIELD blood. _Sleepers_ , they whispered, waiting for the right time to rise.

 The Clairvoyant took the Chamber seat on Lilith's Day. Armies traversed the country soon after. SHIELD disintegrated, and its majority leader Nicholas Fury perished in a mysterious assassination.

 Meanwhile, the Wastelands grew, feeding on the blood of disillusioned Unknowns.

* * *

_T_ _hey called us Eris. We formed under Commander Hill, the last person to have contact with Fury before he died. We counted Romanoff amongst our corps in the beginning, at least until the Wall was built. Then she disappeared, slipping through the cracks that had still existed back then._

_The night before she left, we heard rumors about Barton, shackled to HYDRA_ _’s Fridge. The morning after, no one blinked when the news of a facility break-in filtered through the Wastelands. We called it raiding the Fridge. It was still funny, then._

_Of course, the two of them didn_ _’t come back._

* * *

Eris, goddess of discord, daughters of the organization that burned to ashes. At first dozens of women would appear at the camp, sooty and ragged from running. It was more ideological then: women who were brave enough to believe in SHIELD joined the cause. Soon, however, as bank accounts closed and jobs evaporated and short sleeves disappeared, women ran for the life that had been. Past the Wall that enclosed the HYDRA compounds, where sand and stone crumbled underfoot, Eris endured.

The Yield was Garrett’s idea, of course, another way to subdue another rebel group with no chances of integrating into Angelic society. Eris had no interest in joining the HYDRA compounds, and the compounds expressed only distaste at the idea. But for all the freedom they offered, the Wastelands were dry and hot, and luxuries like fresh water and real food were hard to come by. The Yield changed all that. Eris breathed, skirting the edges of the Angelic Compounds and receiving shipments of necessities, all for the price of one member per year.

They argued it was fair. One Eris member for food shipments was hardly anything, especially when considering the number of women who defected from the Compounds. Besides, it also provided a convenient way to reintegrate rebels, to welcome them back into the fold. So the agreement was given a pretty name, signed, and put into effect, and Eris mourned the loss of her sisters.

* * *

_Oh, they knew. A member per year would eventually bleed us dry, and the number of women we received was much smaller than what HYDRA liked to tell its people. It was no coincidence that the border security budget rose astronomically a few months after the Agreement was signed, either. The Yield depleted Eris_ _’s ranks, made us dependent on HYDRA for survival, and gave the Compounds easy hostages to kill if Eris ever struck back._

_But people will do what they must in the face of starvation. Even Commander Hill. And the food shipments never stalled._

* * *

“Are you ready?” Simmon’s voice is nervous.

“Yeah.” Skye’s voice is not.

“Hurry up.” May’s voice is the same as always, implacable and firm.

Skye bounds out from behind the makeshift curtain, wrapping an elastic around her hair. “It’s like you’re excited for this to begin.”

May doesn’t dignify that with a comment, and the three women head to the dusty Commons.

The small area is quiet, despite the fifty or so women who have congregated. A small six year old girl wanders between the makeshift chairs, an unwanted and unnamed product of the Yield. Here she is called Nike, goddess of victory. Her twin brother stays in the Compounds, training to guard the border from the women his mother used to belong to.

Nike eats an apple, one of the last in the barrel.

_We_ _’re running low on supplies,_ Skye thinks, not for the first time. _But that_ _’s why we_ _’re here, I suppose._

Maria Hill stands at the head of the group, a birdcage nestled in the sand at her feet. In it rests a white dove, scroll bound to its leg.

“I hate how they do that,” Simmons mutters, just like every year. “We may not have access to the technology we used to have, but we’re not in the 15th century. Can’t they just _call_ Maria?”

“You just want your tablet back,” May says, not unkindly. Simmons presses her lips together. “Besides, HYDRA always did have a flair for the dramatic.”

Skye throws herself into a seat and eyes the bird disinterestedly. The room goes still as May joins Hill, Simmons settling next to Skye with her thumbnail caught between her teeth.

Hill doesn't waste time. She opens the cage and cups the bird in one hand, untying its burden with the other. She takes a deep breath. May gives her one quick glance. Then, the scroll unfurls.

“ _In the name of HYDRA,_ _”_ drones the familiar auto-read, “ _and the Angelic Agreement of Sustenance and Shelter, the Clairvoyant declares today, the Day of Wheat and Thanksgiving, the day of Eris_ _’s sacrifice._ _”_ There is a brief whirring sound and Jemma rolls her eyes, muttering about mechanical upgrades.

The auto-read function rights itself. _“For her crimes against the Angelic State, and her betrayal of HYDRA doctrine, Skye 42849 is Eris_ _’s sacrifice._ _”_

The scroll quickly auto-disintegrates. The sound is metallic. Skye thinks of the small circuitry that has collapsed in on itself, the wires that have committed suicide in their paper prison in pursuit of a higher purpose.

Skye stands up, pushing off the vibrating silence that lies against her skin. She brushes the sand off her pants and looks only at Hill, who simply nods back.

“You know what to do.”


End file.
